Exceptionally Unconventional Victoria Clarke Publication date: February 27th 2023 Genres: Adult, Historical, Historical Romance, Romance
The Honorable Miss Lucilla Iverson is an exceptionally unconventional young heiress trying her best to be unexceptionally conventional despite her love of horses and racing curricles. When she attracts the attention of a hardened older bachelor, a duke, no less, it sets the ton afire with anticipation.
Many young bucks seek her approval, including a notorious (and now penniless) gamester who intends to marry Miss Iverson and her money whether or not she agrees. On an inside track for Lucilla’s attention is Oliver, Lord Hartwell, despite a near miss at running her over while driving his phaeton in the company of his cousin, the handsome and mysterious duke. Which of the three will win her heart and hand, to live happily ever after? That is the question!
“Miss Iverson has been quite amicable to every young man that we have presented to her all evening. Is something amiss, Lady Edevane?”
“Sharp as ever, Clementina. The boy has been toadying her for weeks and does not seem to take a hint.”
“I see!” Mrs. Drummond-Burrell replied, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed. She did not appreciate being used as means to force a young lady’s hand and made mental note to mention this episode to her fellow patronesses at their next meeting.
In the ballroom, Miss Iverson allowed herself to be led to the floor and begrudgingly took her place. As the music began, Mr. Moore’s arm came about her waist. Her eyes glanced up at his and she fixed a withering glare upon him. He was undaunted, and indeed barely managed to conceal a smirk.
“Why do you look at me so, Lucilla?” he asked mockingly.
“I do not recall giving you leave to use my name, Mr. Moore.”
“Perhaps you did not, but we are such old friends, what is the harm in it?”
“It may not be harmful, but as it is not pleasing to my ear, I will request you not use it, if you please,” she replied witheringly as they whirled about the room.
“Whatever have I done to make you so upset, Miss Iverson?”
“Other than your underhanded effort to force me to accept a waltz with you, Mr. Moore?”
“I should think the effort was rather successful,” was his cheerful reply.
Miss Iverson’s jaw clenched. People were watching, she knew, so for quite some time she performed her steps in silence while he spoke on mundane topics and considered himself to have won the round. No one could overhear them, but anyone could surely guess she was angry at her dancing partner, and so she forced herself to fix a smile on her face as she looked up at him again.
“It is clear to me that in spite of my mother’s efforts to convince me otherwise, you are quite aware that I do not seek to encourage your familiarity.” Her words were deliberately blunt in an attempt to knock him off his perch, and it appeared to succeed, for his brow darkened momentarily. But as suddenly as it appeared, the frown vanished and he plastered a false smile on his face.
“You wound me, Miss Iverson! What have I done to draw such ire? I have surely not offended you.”
“You are well aware that your attentions offend me.”
“I am at a loss to understand why, for I am your humble servant.”
This drew her eyes up in a flash, and she said scornfully, “Indeed!”
“Have I not loved you since childhood?”
“I vividly recall your penchant for tossing spiders at me.”
“Only in my childish efforts to gain your notice, I assure you.”
“Then I suppose you were also in love with my brothers?” she replied with sarcasm ebbing in her voice.
As he paused to consider the right thing to say in reply, she suddenly pulled away from him and he realized the music had ended. She bobbed a quick and shallow curtsy before spinning on her heel and marching away. He felt irritation wash over him at her defiance. Yes, a less troublesome wife would be best. But he might enjoy breaking Miss Iverson of her spirit.
Author Bio:
I am an Australian writer, traveller, and horse rider. I am a lover of all things England and history – with a healthy side of sci-fi and fantasy.
My debut novel ‘Exceptionally Unconventional’ was written during 2020-21 while my late mother was fighting her final battle with breast cancer. I wrote it in a largely light-hearted way in an effort to keep her spirits up during that time – several of the characters were parodied versions of her acquaintances, so I was very happy to have succeeded in that particular endeavour!
She never got to see it published, but just a few weeks after she passed away, I was offered a contract on it from one of the first publishers I submitted it to. You’ll notice the dedication I chose when it finally came time to write one.
I like the cool cover for Altered by Rob Kaufman, and when I read the blurb, I had to have it. I mean, a guy with four personalities, or alters, who, when threatened will defend themselves…or at least one of them will step up.
Justin Wright, a clinical psychiatrist, has no clue how Frank Devlin, a man with multiple identities, alters, will change his life. Frank had a dad who didn’t care about him and was now dead, a drunken mother who gave him to his uncle…for a few months…who, when he entered his room, Frank would go to his safe place. I figured he had to have an awful childhood if he has multiple identities. He has to have some way to escape the horror. The only good thing was a window, where he could look out on the street and watch the kids and dogs play.
As Justin and Mary share their mystery, her words bring tears to my eyes, a very well written scene. The guilt people carry for the death of a loved one is not always rational, unless they pointed a gun at the person and killed them.
A mystery solved. Love and loss shared. Happiness and anguish shared.
I love psychological thrillers, delving into a damaged mind. Whenever I deal with a mystery, a thriller, I am many times more in love with the villain than the victim. I don’t care so much about how they did what they did, but I want to dig into the whys of their actions. All too often that is never known, so let’s see how Rob Kaufman deals with Frank Devlin’s actions…and the other three identities. I will be sticking around for Book II.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Altered by Rob Kaufman.
4 Stars
About the Book:
Title: Altered (Justin Wright Suspense Series – Book 1)
Author: Rob Kaufman
Publisher: Independent
Pages: 276
Genre: Psychological Suspense Thriller
When Frank Devlin walks into Justin Wright’s office, the renowned New York City clinical psychiatrist decides to take on one of the most challenging cases of his career.
After their first session, it’s obvious Frank has multiple personalities (“alters”) and each one couldn’t be more different than the other. Justin must get to know each individual alter in order to discover the best route to take so that Frank can live a full and happy life. He must also delve into Frank’s past, one filled with mystery, darkness and trauma — the true causes behind his personality split.
As Justin deals with Frank’s issues, he’s also confronted with his own demons: the kidnapping of Michael, his youngest son, seven years earlier… a wife he adores, Mandy, who refuses to accept her son is gone… a constant struggle with his oldest son, Dylan, who was watching over Michael the day the boy was taken. And his problems get worse as, unbeknownst to Justin, Frank and his alters are secretly weaving themselves into his life in ways that will affect the Wright family forever.
A suspense-filled story driven by emotion, angst and the ultimate revenge, “Altered” brings readers down a twisted path of uncertainty and mind games — leaving them shocked, heartbroken and questioning what could possibly come next…
“Crazy-good plot lines and shocking information that had me gasping for breath at every turn!” – Anne F., Amazon Vine Reviewer
“It was an amazing ride with tension building throughout until the final twist ending.” – Patricia G., NetGalley Reviewer
Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mdLxyAEoQY4
Book Excerpt:
The frigid breeze whipped across his face. He ran up the city blocks, wiping melted snowflakes from his eyelids so he could see where he was going. By the time he reached 49th Street, he was out of breath and had to stop. He leaned against the steel pole that held both the street signs and traffic lights. After a few deep breaths, he wiped the liquified flurries off his cheeks and walked as quickly as he could until he reached 50th.
He made a right off Park and because the office was so close to the corner, he could see a glow of light coming from the window. Breathing a sigh of relief, he went through the building’s glass front door and made a quick left. He didn’t stop long enough to ring the bell to let anyone know he was about to enter. Trying to catch his breath, he opened the office door.
The first thing he saw was a man holding a gun up to his own temple.
He yelled, and before he could say a coherent word, he watched the man turn toward him and heard a loud bang. And then another.
His legs wobbled, then his head banged on the wooden floor. He brought his hand up to his throat and felt warm liquid oozing from a hole in his neck. He was surprised at the lack of pain and how rapidly numbness was spreading throughout his body. His throat felt like it was swelling up, closing his airway. He fought out a gasp and heard a soft gurgle. Did he just make that noise? Was blood filling his throat?
He tried to take another breath and heard the same sloshing liquid. His mind went void of thought, his body, frozen.
Suddenly there was muffled yelling, unintelligible screams. Something that felt like a hand cupped the back of his head and soft skin brushed his cheek. As time passed, seconds… minutes… hours… he couldn’t be sure, everything faded except a weightlessness enshrouding him, a gentle sense of calm. He closed his eyes and listened to the blood pump, with each heartbeat, through the opening in his neck.
From some obscure corner of his mind, reality edged its way back in and he struggled to open his eyes one last time.
Through the haze of his dissolving vision, he saw a familiar face hovering over him. Anguish twisted it, and as if from a long distance away, he heard the cries and moans falling from the man’s mouth.
He wanted to cry, grieve for them both, but once again his heavy eyelids fell down. The weeping and mumbling became a fading hum and then ultimately silence.
His final thought was not about this man who sobbed above him, his killer or the “why” behind what just happened. It was the hope that he’d see the loved one he’d lost — a hope that made him smile inside as a comforting warmth enveloped his body like the most snug of blankets warmed by the sun itself.
About the Author
Rob Kaufman novels are known for having characters with whom people can relate, while at the same time, bringing them on a journey from which most people would crumble.
His degree in Psychology was the first step toward getting beneath the surface of the people in his life. What followed was a lifelong search for what makes people tick – what forces them to become evil when deep down they are yearning for love. Rob’s characters walk this search with him, deep into the human psyche, creating psychological thrillers from everyday events.
Rob’s books are perfect for those who enjoy thrillers but also need strong emotion to keep them deeply involved with the characters.
“All my books hit home for me,” says Rob. “There are always parts that make me laugh out loud as I write them… and many, too many, that make me cry. And the great thing is, I’m finding that many readers of my books experience the same emotions.”
Rob’s books receive both national and international praise with most reviews noting that his storylines are extremely “unique” and “sobering” and the twists and turns are “masterful”.
Burning for the Truth A.B. Medley (Finding the Truth Series, #3) Publication date: February 28th 2023 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance, Suspense
Once the fire starts, no one is safe until the smoke clears.
He’s the one who broke her heart first, the one she can’t let go, and still always saves her when it seems all hope is lost.
He’s also her brother’s best friend and way off limits.
***
She’s the one he dreams about, the one he’s always drawn to, but the one he keeps at arm’s length..
She was meant to walk away—he made sure of it—but he can’t stop holding onto her.
Even though she’s the one woman he can never have.
***
Dean and Briella think their feelings are under control—all they’ll ever be is friends—until tragedy strikes, followed by a string of mysterious fires targeting the hearts of Greendale Valley’s police and firefighters. The aftermath pushes them apart completely, only to drive them back together as they risk burning everything down in search of justice.
Will the flame between them continue to burn, or will uncovering the truth leave nothing but ashes?
The ride to my apartment is silent. When we get back, I keep quiet as I get ready for bed.
“Is everything okay?” he finally asks.
“Fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” I clip frostily.
“I don’t know, maybe because you’ve been acting like a spoiled brat since we left the diner.”
I stop what I’m doing and face him with my jaw clenched. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Bree. You’re mad because she talked to me. Admit it.”
“I’m not mad. What you do and who you do it with is none of my business,” I reply coolly even though he’s right. I don’t want to think of him with anyone else even though I have no right to those feelings.
He steps closer, almost nose to nose. “You’re lying.” He searches my face for a crack in my armor.
I step closer so there’s no space between us. “I don’t tell lies. It sounds like you made your move with her and I’m happy for you.”
He scoffs and laughs humorlessly. “I was on duty and checked her detectors, one of the other guys was with me. We were in and out in a matter of about fifteen minutes. This dinner she keeps wanting to have with me is her idea, not mine.”
“So go. You might have fun. You might even be able to give your heart to her and be happy. You won’t know until you try. What do you have to lose?” My chest is aching as I say the words. I don’t mean them. I want him to be happy, but not with her.
“You.” He slides his hand into my hair at the base of my neck; his stormy gaze blazing with fury and passion. “I stand to lose you. Chelsea’s nice, but she’s not you. I can’t give my heart to her or anyone else. You have it. You took it a long time ago.” His breath fans my face as his lips lightly brush against mine.
He brings both hands to either side of my face as I lean into him for an instant, my body and my heart responding in every way, until I think about all the ways this can go wrong. “No. You don’t mean that. And even if you did, we can’t.” I take a step back with my hand placed firmly on his chest as if it will keep him from coming closer.
“The hell I don’t. But if you don’t want me, then I’ll back off.” He takes a few steps back as if demonstrating what he means.
My heart squeezes painfully. “It’s not that I don’t want you. This isn’t only about me and you. If we take a chance and we fall instead of fly, we risk hurting other people too,” I admit honestly.
He comes closer and pulls me into his arms. “We won’t fall. I won’t let go. We can do this if we’re in it together. Hold on to me, Briella. Don’t let go.”
His lips crash down on mine as he pushes me toward my bed, and I know with certainty I’ll do exactly as he says. I won’t let him go. I don’t think I ever truly did.
Author Bio:
A.B. Medley lives in Tennessee with the love of her life and two sons. Her husband stole her heart when she was sixteen and their relationship is one of those meant to be love stories you find in magazines and novels.
She is a dental hygienist who loves to read and has always dabbled in writing. When she’s not making people’s smiles shine, she enjoys belting out songs with her boys, dancing, raspberries, baseball, and anything vintage. Like any proper Tennessean, Sundrop is her drink of choice.
She loves her family and friends fiercely and believes in always chasing your dreams.
Deception in the Truth is her debut novel—but now she’s hooked, and there’s more to come!
Book Title: When the Smoke Cleared (A Murder Mystery in Malden) by Bill Powers Category: Adult Non-Fiction (18 +), 400 pages Genre: True Crime Publisher: PowersCourt Press Release date: Oct, 2022 Content Rating: PG-13 Some violence some profanity
Book Description:
There is no greater distinction or responsibility for a law enforcement officer than to be selected to investigate homicides. The same is true for a prosecutor. It is analogous to a call up to the big leagues where the curveballs or slapshots are frequent and more challenging, the lights are brighter, the audience larger and louder, and the scrutiny and demand for perfection can at times be a bit overwhelming.
This story follows an extraordinary murder investigation from the crime scene through to the arrest and into the courtroom. It is narrated by retired Detective Lieutenant Bill Powers, the former commander of the State Police Detective Unit for the Middlesex District Attorney’s Office in Massachusetts:
“When the smoke from the fire cleared and the water level receded, it was visually evident that a violent struggle, quite possibly a homicide, had preceded the fire. But where was the victim? The waterlogged bloodstains in the function room told us it wasn’t likely they stood up and walked out the door. We were confronted with an unusual dilemma. We not only had to investigate what happened and develop probable cause to make an arrest, but we also had to locate the poor soul who had spilled so much of their blood.”
Walk the path of the investigation with Bill and his team, and then follow in ADA Adrienne Lynch’s footsteps as she guides the trial from opening statements through to the final verdict; a truly unique accounting with a bird’s eye view.
Beyond a police and courtroom procedural, this story is about the personal struggles in the victim’s life and how her death impacted her family’s lives in ways no one could have foreseen. It is a love story that grew from unspeakable tragedy.
Bill Powers writes from the heart because he spent twenty years living the life of a homicide investigator. He went to literally hundreds of death scenes and, while each made its mark, none had more of a personal effect on him than this case.
Bill Powers has been active in the Massachusetts law enforcement community since he joined the Massachusetts State Police in 1974. Over time he rose through the ranks and was promoted to the rank of Detective Lieutenant. He commanded the State Police Detective Units (SPDU) in both Middlesex and Suffolk Counties, where he had direct oversight and involvement in more than one hundred homicides. His State Police career came full circle when he was named Commandant of the Recruit Training Academy. He retired as the director of the Media Relations Section. Following his retirement, Bill was appointed as an Assistant Professor in the graduate program for forensic sciences at the Boston University School of Medicine (BUSM). For the next seven years he lectured on criminal investigation and expert testimony to the graduate students. In addition, he produced training seminars for police investigators covering a wide variety of topics. Following his tenure at the BUSM he returned to the law enforcement profession as the Director of Public Safety at Wentworth Institute in Boston. Bill earned an undergraduate degree from Northeastern University with a major in Criminal Justice and a Juris Doctorate degree from the New England School of Law.
He resides South of Boston with his wife Jane. Their two daughters and their families live nearby. He has been blessed with five remarkable grandchildren who sparkle like bright stars in the night sky.
Unquenchable chemistry. The rare gift of a second chance. Choices that could destroy it all.
Quinn and Jonathan’s erotic journey continues as sizzling tension tests their “friends for now” pact.
After a desperate call interrupts a failed platonic dinner—and a water main break renders Quinn homeless—she’s left with little choice: Take Jonathan up on his just-friends-no-benefits offer to share his apartment.
But getting closer? A romantic relationship? Not an option. Even after that one impulsive and magical but heartbreaking kiss.
Damn, that kiss. It tells Jonathan all he needs to know about Quinn’s feelings and only deepens his desire to build a life with her. Until her defensive walls throw him back into reality. The reality in which his sweet gig as Spice of Life’s travel show host is on the line. The reality in which he can’t fully accept Quinn’s involvement at Octavia’s dungeon. The reality in which the woman he adores is still grieving—and not ready to hear the three words he needs to say.
The second novel in the Transformation Series, Secretly turns up the heat: A secret trip to a Parisian chateau dungeon, a last-minute wedding to plan, a bold, perhaps impulsive, career decision. Quinn and Jonathan each make choices that alter the course of their lives. Can they forge a shared future?
A story about discovery and desire, friendship and boundaries, freedom and risk. About the delicate balance between intimacy and autonomy. About the struggle to love again and how we choose to live the second chapter of our lives.
Friends to lovers, slow burn, second chance, fish out of water—readers will click with the themes in this edgy contemporary erotic romance. Features characters over 40 and a sexy beta hero. Mature themes, strong language, kink, dungeon and steamy open-door bedroom scenes.
How did you come up with the idea for Secretly? As I was writing one of the later scenes in the previous book, Silently, the scene where Quinn is in the hospital and Jonathan climbs into bed with her and they talk–really talk–I realized there was too much growing between them for their story to end. After I finished writing Silently, that feeling continued–I could not get Quinn and Jonathan out of my head. So I began writing Secretly, and the two of them took it from there.
What was your favorite scene or theme in Secretly to write? That’s easy. Wait, actually I have two favorites. The first is when… Hmm, how to say this without spoilers… The first is when Jonathan catches Quinn off guard at one point and she’s a sweaty mess in the summer heat, and she’s SO awkward with him. He gloats a bit rethinking it later, but in the moment he’s himself–sweet and sexy and relieved she’s not angry with him. They’re both so real with each other in that scene.
And the other scene I loved writing is when they think they see each other in Paris. During revisions, I was this close (pinching fingers together) to cutting it. But I kept it in and I believe the book is better for it. I think it shows that, at the end of the day, no matter what issues have arisen between them, they’re just really connected to each other.
What was the hardest scene or theme to write? The hardest theme through all three books was Quinn’s grief. Although it lessens over time, it was difficult to balance showing the depth of her sorrow with keeping the story moving forward. In a way, I had to do the same thing to her that the characters were doing — trying to respect her feelings, her experience, her healing process while also nudging her on at a pace that felt “right” for the story.
Your blog says you love-love-love to read. What are you reading right now? A funny, sharply written erotic romance with fake dating and multiple partners, Mint to Be by Madelynne Ellis, and I just finished–and am still thinking about (in the best way)–Carrie Soto is Back by Taylor Jenkins Reid.
What’s your writing routine like? Writing routine. Hah, that’s a good one. I’m more of a fits and starts kind of girl. I wish I could say otherwise but that’s the truth. I don’t always write everyday. But when I’m in the middle of a draft, with the ideas clamoring to be put onto the page, I will write every single minute of the day that I can.
Talya Blaine writes later-in-life contemporary romance that’s emotionally intense and thought-provoking, spicy and sweet. She writes “older” characters (40+), sexy beta heroes, and explores how relationships of all types change over time. Silently (Transformation Series Book 1) is her debut romance, with Secretly (Book 2) and Entirely (Book 3) completed and releasing soon.
We Come With Vengeance H.G. Muralee Publication date: March 14th 2023 Genres: Adult, Steampunk
The war has stretched on for twenty years, and the soldiers, civilians, and nobles are exhausted. Towns grow more desolate while war technology continues to advance, leaving the rest of Kaier behind.
Felix—heir to House Leigh-Van—harbors resentment for the war that has claimed his sister’s life and his father’s ethics. Regardless, he follows his orders and is content to remain equal among his fellow soldiers.
When a routine stop for repairs puts Felix at the epicenter of a brutal attack impacting civilians rather than soldiers, he struggles to continue separating his ethics from his duty. He’s privately ambivalent but publicly supportive of his uncle—the king—when whispers of an underground rebellion start to circulate. The rebellion is gaining traction and could soon make a serious play at ending the war.
But when even the tactics of the resistance begin claiming lives as quickly as the war itself, Felix starts to wonder who will survive to see the peace they’re fighting for.
H.G. Muralee was born and raised in North Carolina. She graduated from Western Carolina University and works as a paralegal. When she isn’t writing, she’s reading far too many books, watching The Great British Baking Show, learning her husband’s native language, and playing with her dog, Oliver.
Veteran trekker Hardy Durkin takes his first bike tour group to Béziers, in the South of France, for what is expected to be relaxing, uneventful bicycling in the Hérault region. This notion is kicked to the curb when a double cold-case with present-day repercussions is discovered on one of the group’s outings. Hardy becomes embroiled in another homicide when he is present at a murder that takes place during an innocent flamenco performance that is anything but.
The bottom line: murder and intrigue follow Hardy Durkin like a shadow, even in the sunny, laid-back South of France, but this time his wheel of fortune veers uncomfortably off the rails in Homicide Hérault.
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery Published by: Blue Shutter Publishing Publication Date: December 2022 Number of Pages: 199 ISBN13: 978-1-941611-20-3 Series: Hardy Durkin Travel Mystery Series Book 6 | Each is a Stand Alone Mystery Book Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Smashwords
Read an excerpt:
There was a brief lull in the questions, then Delia asked what everyone else was thinking. “Who are you, Hardy Durkin? You’ve got this Clotiers guy on speed dial. You’re not in the least bit flustered about finding two dead soldiers on a god-forsaken riverbank in the South of France, you seem to be evading the police about it… Just who the hell are you?”
A shocked silence was interrupted by Clive. “I can answer that,” he said. He turned to Hardy almost apologetically. “My cousin was on your trek in the Black Forest.” To his fellow cyclists he explained, “Hardy is exactly who he seems to be. He has a trek business for points in Europe.” He paused, then added, “He also has an unusual skill set from his military training and for reasons unknown to anyone has a knack for wading into mysteries, stumbling upon dead bodies, and bringing criminals to justice.”
***
Excerpt from Homicide Hérault by Bluette Matthey. Copyright 2022 by Lucinda Guthrie. Reproduced with permission from Bluette Matthey. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Bluette Matthey is a 3rd generation Swiss American and an avid lover of European cultures. She has decades of travel and writing experience. She is a keen reader of mysteries, especially those that immerse the reader in the history, inhabitants, culture, and cuisine of new places. Her passion for travel, except airports (where she keeps a mystery to pass the time), is shared by her husband, who owned a tour outfitter business in Europe. Bluette particularly loves to explore regions that are not on the “15 days in Europe” itineraries. She also enjoys little-known discoveries, such as the London Walks, in well-known areas. She firmly believes that walking and hiking bring her closer to the real life of any locale. Bluette maintains a list of hikes and pilgrimages throughout Europe for future exploration.
Bluette is the author of the Hardy Durkin Travel Mystery series, author and developer of the South-of-France travel app, Potty Poche, and her latest mystery, Two Murders Too Many. She lives in Béziers in the South of France, with her husband and trio of loving cats.
Hacienda Moon Expanded Edition KaSonndra Leigh Genres: February 21st 2023
Tandie Harrison is a police medium struggling to pick up the pieces of her life after a devastating divorce that left her without her precious daughter and her psychic visions. With a heavy heart, she escapes the hustle and bustle of New York City and moves into the alluring plantation house, Chelby Rose. Here, she meets Eric, the home’s charismatic caretaker. Despite the ghostly warnings, Tandie finds herself drawn to him, and as their affair intensifies, so does the centuries-old curse haunting them both.
Suddenly, Tandie finds herself at the center of a dark and dangerous web full of deceit and intrigue. As fear begins to consume her, she must find the courage to face the demons of her past if she is to have any chance at a future. Hacienda Moon is a captivating story full of suspense and romance that will ensnare you from start to finish.
Note to readers and bookclubs:
This is the expanded and revamped edition of the Hacienda Moon that was originally published in 2012. Please be sure to add this version to your to-read list as this edition contains more gothic suspense, intrigue, and of course romance.
The results of Eric’s handyman skills were beautiful. The final perk was the light rose-colored exterior paint, a shade considered original to the house. Eric didn’t say a word about my upgraded paintbrushes. He was too busy making sure I didn’t catch him watching me as I bent over to paint the lowest boards on the house. However, I turned around at the perfect moment on paint day and caught him staring. His face flushed so badly, I couldn’t resist doing something to celebrate my small victory.
“Wow, it’s so hot out here today.” I stretched my arms, lifting my tee-shirt up until my belly button was exposed, basking in the warmth of the late summer sun. Eric’s mouth fell open. Success! That move totally stole Mr. Intense’s attention. Tucking my lips, I made a move toward an even more creative tease, bending over to pick up one of the three paint brushes I’d dropped.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“What does it look like? I dropped my paintbrushes.” I shrugged and waved the brush between us. “Did I not use the proper technique for bending over and picking it up?”
He gave me a dimpled grin and moved closer to where I stood beside the house. Glancing down at the brushes beside my feet, he said, “They do look somewhat dirty. You sure you can handle that task? You strike me as somewhat of a nice girl. With that much paint and dirt all in the heads, you have to get a little rough with cleaning them.” His gaze bore into mine, smoldering me under a hazel brown sugary-colored look this time.
I held his gaze. “Oh, believe me. I have plenty of ways to clean dirty things.”
There was about a foot of space between us now. “Is that right?”
“Oh yeah,” I answered, hoping that the pulse line on my neck didn’t show the way my heart thumped inside my chest.
His gaze drifted from my eyes down to my lips and finally ended at my left shoulder. “Then why don’t you start by cleaning that big red spider off your shoulder?” An amused smile spread across his lips, but a scream shrilled out of mine.
Eric slammed his hands over his ears. “Damn it, Tandie.”
Adrenaline spiked through me. He might as well have said my breasts were hanging out. He would’ve gotten less of a response than he did with the spider statement. “Get it off me! Do you see it? Is it still there? Get it!” I shrieked, jumping around and spinning in half circles.
“I won’t help you until you stop trying to burst my eardrums,” he said, still half-way smiling. He came over and put his arms around me, pulling me into his embrace. “Calm down, Tandie. It’s gone, all right?”
Vowing to never tease Eric ever again, I waited for my breathing to normalize and for my trembling limbs to steady as I was pressed against Eric’s chest.
Author Bio:
Meet your word sculptress…
Author of the International bestselling novels, the Prelude and the Lost Immortals Saga, KaSonndra is also a mother, designer, reader, gardener, home renovator, and a slayer of undead Egyptian mummies in Tomb Raider. She believes in karma, coffee, and seriously wishes that the producers of Xena would bring her favorite show back.
KaSonndra was born in the race-car city of Charlotte, NC, and now lives in the City of Alchemy and Medicine, NC, when she’s not hanging out in Bardonia (Lost Immortals Saga setting). Most of her characters are based on people that she has met throughout her travels and adventures.
People tend to stop and start conversations with KaSonndra as if she has known them her entire life. Does this freak her out? Not really. Her mom says that one day she’ll get kidnapped by one of these folks. KaSonndra’s response? She told her mom that if it weren’t for these lovely people, then she wouldn’t be able to create such fabulously romantic stories!
Would the assassins plotting to kill Theodore Roosevelt on his visit to the Panama Canal succeed?
Until this trip, no president while in office had ever traveled abroad. White House secretary Maurice Latta, thrilled to accompany the President, could not anticipate the adventures and dangers ahead. Latta befriends watchful secret service agents, ambitious journalists, and anxious First Lady Edith Roosevelt on their hot and humid trip, where he observes a country teeming with inequalities and abounding in opportunities. Along the way he learns about his own strengths—what he never imagined he could do, and what he discovers he can’t do.
Theodore Roosevelt did visit Panama in 1906, accompanied by White House staffer Maurice Latta. Interweaving the stories of real-life characters with fictional ones, Path of Peril imagines what the newspapers feared to report and what historians never discovered about Roosevelt’s risky trip.
Praise for Path of Peril:
“Nothing better than settling down with a good, crisp, detail-rich assassination thriller. Someone is after Theodore Roosevelt, and author Marlie Wasserman tightens the screws, ratchets the tension, and twists the plot again and again. Read it.”
William Martin, New York Times Bestselling Author of The Lincoln Letter and December ’41
“A feast of characters, scenery and history, Wasserman sets the table for a tremendous read. Path of Peril is a privileged walk with TR, his wife, his staff and dozens of characters struggling to create one of the “greatest engineering feats of the century.”
Chris Keefer, author of No Comfort for the Undertaker, a Carrie Lisbon Mystery
“Path of Peril is enjoyable and engaging and places the reader at the center of a fast, explosive and intriguing plot—making this new book one that should not be missed.”
Mel Ayton, author of Plotting to Kill the President
“Wasserman’s Path of Peril gives readers an exciting leap back in time… Buy this book—you’ll love it!”
Michael Conniff, historian of Panama
Book Details:
Genre: Historical Crime Fiction Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: January 2023 Number of Pages: 320 Series: This is a Stand Alone Novel Book Links:Amazon
Read an excerpt:
Maurice Latta
Sunday, January 19, 1947
For forty-one years I honored my oath to President Theodore Roosevelt and his bodyguard to conceal the events of November 15th and November 17th, 1906. On each of those days I agreed to a conspiracy of silence. Last year, that bodyguard died, and TR is long dead. Before I follow them to the grave, I will disclose the perils we faced during the President’s historic trip to Panama, to clarify the record and to unburden myself.
My tale begins in the White House clerk’s office, where I served as a stenographer during the McKinley administration and where I serve now, with a higher title, fifty years later. At first, I felt no connection with the other fifteen fellows in the clerk’s office. I suppose I looked the part, with my regular features and unremarkable bearing. If my appearance fit in, my background did not. Most men working for the President, even at the turn of the century, were college boys. Some had taken the grand tour of Europe. A few had gone to universities in New England. Three, fancying themselves adventurers, had traveled to the West with President Roosevelt, that is, President Theodore Roosevelt. Two of the older gentlemen had been heroes in battles in the South during the Civil War. Most of the White House office workers had nothing to prove, to the President or to themselves.
I followed a different path to Washington. After an unmemorable youth on a Pennsylvania farm, I moved to Oklahoma, where I took my first job as a junior clerk. I filled in paperwork for the more memorable 1893 land rush. Over time my responsibilities and the commands of the head clerk grew distasteful. A friend back in Pennsylvania recommended me for a position as a clerk for a state senator in Harrisburg. I worked for that state senator for one year and two months. Forgive the precision—I like to be accurate with details. Then the legislator was elected to Congress and took me to Washington. Three years later, almost to the day, word spread across town that President William McKinley’s office needed a stenographer. By that time I had married Clara Hays Bullen and had two sons. I aimed to improve my lowly position and my meager salary.
I moved down Pennsylvania Avenue from the Capitol to the White House. My official duties, those that were known, started on August 8, 1898. Three years and one month after I started, all hell broke loose in the office. Of course I wouldn’t have used such language then. Leon Czolgosz, an anarchist, assassinated President McKinley. Like other Americans, I felt sorrowful. I had seen McKinley pass down the hall daily, but I had never been introduced to him and he never spoke to me.
My clerk’s job continued. Theodore Roosevelt became President. Little changed in the routines of our office, except now the President knew me by my first and last name. Maurice Latta. To be precise, Maurice Cooper Latta.
When the President’s Secretary, William Loeb, promoted me from Stenographic Clerk to Assistant Secretary on June 4, 1906, I hoped I might have the opportunity to travel, at least up and down the East Coast. Two months later, I heard rumors that TR wanted to assess progress on his canal. Oh, let me interrupt myself for a moment. While conducting my official capacities, I called the President President Roosevelt. Informally I called him TR. By the way, he was the first president to be known by his initials. And some called him Teddy, though I never did so. I am told his relatives called him Teedie. You will hear all these names in my tale.
This trip would be the first time a president, while in office, had ever left the United States. Many Americans thought a president should not travel to foreign soil. That seems odd to us now, after Versailles and Yalta. But in 1906 most Americans didn’t give much thought to the rest of the world, not until TR changed that.
I assumed Secretary Loeb, always interested in the press, would accompany the President to the canal. Mr. Loeb would want to shape the stories in the dailies and weeklies. Reporters called him Stonewall Loeb because of the way he controlled their access to the President. To my shock, Mr. Loeb asked me to go in his place.
Today, even after working in the executive offices of nine administrations, now for President Truman (no, I never call him Give ‘Em Hell Harry), and managing a staff of 204 clerks, my title, a rather misleading title, is only Executive Clerk. I am proud, though, that the New York Times has acknowledged my worth. Four years ago, in a Christmas day article my family framed, the reporter wrote, “The actual ‘assistant president’. . . is an official who has been in the White House since 1898 and knows more about its procedure than anyone else. He is Maurice C. Latta, now seventy-four and known as ‘Judge’ Latta to the White House staff.” In truth I know more about what is happening, and what did happen, than most of the presidents I served. That statement is for this memoir only.
I won’t dwell on my years in the White House after Panama, but rather on four days in 1906, in and around the Canal Zone. For the public, I want to add to the historical record, which is silent on certain momentous events. For me and my family, I want to remember the turning point, when I came to realize both my limitations and my strengths. I am writing the tale of what I know, what I saw myself. If you wish, you can fill in gaps with stories you gather from the others present that November, the stories I couldn’t see.
William Loeb
Monday, October 15, 1906
“I’m tired, Maurice. I followed that wild man to Yellowstone and Yosemite three years ago. Still haven’t recovered. None of us could keep up with him.” Mr. Loeb, Secretary to the President, was talking to me about Theodore Roosevelt’s two-month long trip to the West. “Now he’s sailing to Panama. He’ll itch for another frenzied schedule. I can’t do it this time. Here’s the question. Are ready for that kind of a trip? Interested in going in my place? I’m forty, you’re thirty-six. Those four extra years make a difference, right?
William Loeb sat three feet away from my face, at his desk in the White House. When he questioned me he leaned forward, putting his square jaw one foot from my weaker jaw. What answer did he expect? Modesty? Confidence?
“You surprise me, sir. I have never traveled beyond Oklahoma. I have never sailed, and I’ve never been responsible for a presidential trip. But I have watched you. I assisted you from afar when you traveled with the President. I will be honest, it would be a big step for me. I wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
Mr. Loeb sat back, slouched. I had disappointed him already.
“Sir, if you will walk me through the responsibilities, I would be honored to accompany the President.”
I will never know if Mr. Loeb truly believed I could handle the job, or if he had no one else in reserve. He shook my hand, sealing the arrangement. A day later he called me back to his office for instructions.
“Above all, Maurice, keep to the schedule. I’ll help you prepare it. We start with essential meetings. Officials of Panama and representatives from other countries. Then we fill in as needed.” Mr. Loeb was in his element, flaunting his expertise. “Second, control the access of journalists. Give priority to Frederick Palmer, he’s a favorite of Teddy’s. And I’ve been asked to add in a local journalist named Herbert de Lisser. Limit access to those two. Manage the press like I do. Third, names. Keep on you, in your pocket, the identities of the people Teddy is to meet. Whisper him reminders. He’s smart, but that makes him seem even smarter. Fourth, keep notes. You’ll need them later for Teddy’s reports. Last, prioritize telegrams. The pundits are worried that the President, abroad for the first time, won’t be in charge of the business of the country. I’ve reminded them that telegrams will reach his ship and will reach Panama. Sort through dispatches when they arrive and make sure he deals with them.”
I feared Mr. Loeb would notice my twitching right leg. Instead, he looked down and hesitated. For more than a second.
“I need to be frank with you about another matter. There could be danger. Jimmy Sloan, the Secret Service agent who heads Teddy’s protection detail, he tells me he hears rumors of anarchist plots against the President. He has people checking ships arriving in Panama, looking for suspicious travelers. May not matter. Hunting for an assassin is like finding a needle in a haystack. And there’s more. Mrs. R. is frantic. Jimmy—fine to call him Jimmy—won’t talk to her. Teddy tells him not to. She tries to get information from me and I won’t talk to her either. She’ll see you as easy prey and try you too. A word to the wise—be wary of that elegant lady. She’s lived through three assassinations and she’s no fool.”
I could think of nothing to say. I was so anxious about my coming secretarial duties that I had forgotten about the President’s safety.
“Enough of the serious stuff,” Mr. Loeb said. Get yourself new clothing for the trip. Two suits and evening wear. Can’t have you looking like a farmer.” He must have seen me widen my eyes in a question.
“No extra allowance for that. Hope your Assistant Secretary’s salary will stretch.
Edith Roosevelt
November 1906
Edith Kermit Carow Roosevelt married late, at age twenty-five, pleased to be Theodore’s second wife. His first, empty-headed Alice Lee, had been prettier, but only her memory was competition. Society column reporters called Edith an elegant, good-looking woman. Even the carpers acknowledged that her sharp nose and chin didn’t mar the impression. Those reporters never called her intelligent, but she knew she was that, and Theodore knew too. At age forty-five, after five children and two miscarriages, the last just three years earlier, she remained slender and attractive.
In the White House Edith stayed busy, watching over sons Ted, Kermit, Archibald, and Quentin, her daughter Ethel, and her rambunctious stepdaughter Alice. Thank goodness Alice had just married, even if it was to Nicholas Longworth III, a bald politician, much older than Alice, with a reputation as a playboy. The wedding nine months earlier had been the social event of the season in Washington. With that extravaganza over, Edith’s burdens did not disappear, but she could begin to reorder them. The stepdaughter now moved from second place to third. Worries about Quentin, her youngest, and his mischievous antics rose to second.
Fear for Theodore remained first in Edith’s list of worries. The year before, she convinced her husband to buy a rustic house, known as Pine Knot, in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. A private retreat. Almost private. Always watchful, she arranged for two Secret Service agents to protect the house every evening, without the President’s knowledge.
Sounds. They drove her crazy. The pulsating wind and the rattle of cedar shingles at Pine Knot. The scraping sounds of old window frames and squeaky plumbing at the White House. With each sound Edith heard an alarm. She had trusted Theodore’s first bodyguard, “Big Bill” Craig. In a carriage accident four years earlier Bill died and Theodore was injured. Now Jimmy Sloan oversaw protection. Jimmy was a good agent. Could even a good agent handle the task ahead? The trip to Panama would attract an international cast of cranks. Edith hoped they were cranks, not trained assassins. After each attempt on Theodore’s life, a reporter invariably mentioned the statistics. Three of the last ten presidents had been assassinated, three in about forty years, all in her lifetime. She imagined these numbers branded on her forehead.
Edith needed to identify a member of the trip’s entourage who might keep her informed about threats. Jimmy Sloan and his agents had pledged secrecy. Or they dismissed a woman’s worries. Thought her hysterical. They would be no help. And Theodore refused to acknowledge her fears, refused to listen. Thought she didn’t notice he carried a pistol in his pocket when he mingled with crowds. She would think creatively. She would curry favor with someone else on the trip, someone with knowledge. Maybe that Assistant Secretary who was taking the place of Secretary Loeb. Maurice Latta. He might know and he might share. She would keep an eye out for him aboard ship.
***
Excerpt from Path of Peril by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Copyright 2023 by Marlie Parker Wasserman. Reproduced with permission from Marlie Parker Wasserman. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Marlie Parker Wasserman continues to write historical crime fiction. Her first book, The Murderess Must Die, was published in 2021. After spending many years in New Jersey, she now lives in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She is a member of Sisters in Crime and the Historical Novel Society.
Expiry Dating Isobel Reed (Bluestone Series, #2) Publication date: February 21st 2023 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Sparks start more than a fire… They start an explosion.
Alice is not happy. Her ex screwed her over, literally. One day her mother is dreaming of a white wedding, the next, Alice is hurling hardbacks at a naked boyfriend caught in bed with her best friend. So she did the only logical thing she could think of. She got the hell out of there. In fact, she left the country.
It’s not long before she discovers the perks of small-town living, and she even finds herself a job. There is just one thing stopping this all from being perfect though. One infuriating person she just can’t seem to shake. Brady Mitchell. It figures that the hottest man she’s ever seen also just so happens to be the most annoying one on the planet.
Brady is back home and trying to come to terms with life outside the military. Adjusting to a new job and new limitations from his injury, he expected to settle into a slower pace of life, maybe even a quiet one. That was until Alice Hart came bulldozing into his world. The woman was anything but quiet. Loud, angry and sexy as hell, yes. But definitely not quiet.
Alice and Brady ignite inside and outside the bedroom. But will they survive the burn?
“No, no, no. This cannot be happening. Goddamn lying, cheating, son of a b***h.”
Her phone was never going to survive this. A loud thud echoed around the room after it went flying through the air and crashed against the dark wood walls of her cabin. Truthfully, as soon as she clicked on the picture, her cell phone never had a chance.
It had been three months since she’d caught her ex-boyfriend in bed with her best friend, two months since she had quit her job, and one month since she’d begged her sister, Lily, to let her come stay with her on her ranch in Bluestone County. Alice had enough self-awareness to admit she was running away from her problems, but being in London right now wasn’t an option. And after just seeing her ex-best friend’s latest social media post, it was a good thing Alice was in another country, otherwise there was a strong possibility she would’ve been locked up for grievous bodily harm by now.
“Oh my God, Ali, what the hell did you do to your phone? The screen is all cracked!” Lily gasped.
Alice hadn’t even heard Lily come in. She was checking on her again; she’d been doing that a lot.
“Um … yeah, it fell. Don’t worry, I’m sure I can get it fixed in town.”
Lily’s jade eyes narrowed. “Oh, really? And where exactly did it fall from, Ali? The sky? ’Cos from where I’m standing, it looks like it either magically fell from the ceiling, or you threw it across the room in a fit of rage?”
This is the problem with being so close to your sister. She knows me too damn well.
Letting out a sigh, Alice slumped further down into the leather armchair that had been cocooning her for the past hour.
“F**king Becky.” She grumbled. “Apparently, she’s pregnant. I’ll give you three guesses as to who the father is.”
And there it was, pity, all over her big sister’s face.
“Oh, Ali. I’m so sorry. How did you find out?”
“My friend forwarded me a post Becky made.”
Lily closed the distance between them and took a hold of Alice’s hand, quickly pulling her up from the chair. “Come on. Let’s go up to the main house. We can drink some wine, eat a f**kload of chocolate, and plot revenge.”
Alice reluctantly followed. Wine and chocolate were probably the only things that could possibly salvage today.
They were just a two-minute walk from the main house where Lily and her husband, Jake, lived. Jake’s sister, Sam, used to live there too but had recently moved in with her boyfriend, Duke.
Lily had initially wanted Alice to stay in the house with them, but she wanted the newlyweds to have some privacy. After all, it had only been two weeks since they’d gotten hitched in Vegas. Not to mention, Alice needed her own space. Luckily, the ranch had guest cabins, so she was able to take up residence in one of them until she figured out her next move.
As they walked into the house and made their way into the spotless stainless-steel kitchen, a familiar voice pricked up the hair on the back of her neck.
No. Please don’t be here right now. Please, not today of all days.
Damnit. There he was—Brady—all six foot two of him. The new bane of her existence. He was wearing a fitted, tan, cop uniform so sexy it should be illegal. If she didn’t already know he was the devil, she could easily be fooled by his dark, brooding good looks. Even his damn caramel-coloured eyes were mesmerizing.
Mesmerizing eyes? Get a frigging grip, Alice. He’s the devil, remember?
It had been two weeks since they’d met in Vegas at Lily and Jake’s impromptu wedding, and despite trying to avoid Brady like the plague since then, he just kept showing up. Yes, Bluestone was small, and Alice was staying at his best friend’s ranch, but it was actually getting ridiculous. He was everywhere. Whenever she ventured out, whether it was to get coffee or go shopping, he was there, waiting in the shadows, ready to make her life miserable.
“Looking good, sweetness.” Brady smirked as he purposely knocked her on the way over to the fridge, where he swiftly removed a beer bottle.
Alice shot him a glare over her shoulder. “Wish I could say the same to you, Brady, but it appears as if the rumours really are true and beer does go straight to a man’s gut.”
She was lying, of course. There was no beer belly in sight. The man was a wall of solid muscle, but something about him drove her absolutely insane. It apparently also meant she couldn’t control her mouth whenever he was in the vicinity. He’d somehow managed to crawl under her skin in a matter of minutes of them meeting, and insults had been hurled between them ever since.
Brady’s silky laughter bellowed behind her. “You offering to help me work it off, sweetness?”
Author Bio:
Isobel was born and raised in London. She still lives along the River Thames with her husband and her substantial book collection. Ever the hopeless romantic, she fell in love with the genre from a young age and was inspired to write her own stories. When she’s not feasting on romantic comedies or binge reading her hoard of contemporary romance novels, Isobel is writing.
